


Absence Makes the Heart grow Fonder

by misha_anon



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Reunion, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/misha_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen had a long time to think about how much he missed Misha while the latter was back in LA.  When Misha came back to the set, Jensen decided it was high time to show him just how nice it was to have him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absence Makes the Heart grow Fonder

Jared is like a brother to Jensen and Jensen wouldn’t trade him for the world.  Texans have to stick together in the Great White North, after all.  Jensen thinks Misha’s different, though.  He’s “not from around here” in the best sense of the phrase, with his off-the-wall ideas and his stupid face and his ability to talk anyone into anything, any time.  It’s just not the same when Misha isn’t around.

Jensen did a lot of thinking while Misha was back in California.  He tried to figure out why he felt so not okay so much of the time.  Seriously, how could his life get any better?  But, no, something was missing and it made Jensen feel tired and crabby and achey inside in ways he didn’t want to think about.  So he just didn’t think about it until Jared told him one day in the middle of of one of Jensen’s not-at-all-rare sulky snits to “fuckin’ figure it out, Jen.  Gettin’ so sicka your shit.”

So, that’s what Jensen did.  He fuckin’ figured it out.  It’s not like he loves Misha in a gay way.  Naw, not like that.  He’s straight as an arrow, Jensen is. Not that there’s anything wrong with  _not_  being straight as an arrow, of course.  Jensen can’t kid himself, though.  He loves Misha.  Hell, maybe he even needs to have Misha around.  For stuff like comic relief and to have someone to torture and fluster.  Nothing weird or anything.

Jensen has been antsy all day.  He knows people are noticing, but he just tries to play it off like it’s no big deal.  ”Too much coffee”, he keeps telling everyone, laughing, and “shouldn’t have had that seventh cup!”  When Misha finally shows up for his call, though, Jensen feels his heart race and his mouth go dry.  He hasn’t had a chance to see Misha since the latter’s return to Vancouver and damn, he’s really missed the guy.

Like, really,  _really_  missed him.

Like didn’t even realize how much he missed Misha until he saw him again.  Jensen hangs back while everyone else greets Misha, welcomes him back to the set.  He feels a little shy inside, kind of squirmy and just so, so pleased to see his friend again.  When Misha makes his way over, Jensen can feel himself smiling way too big.  So big it makes his cheeks ache.  But, Misha’s positively beaming right back at him and that feels pretty fantastic, too.

Jensen reaches out to shake Misha’s hand, but feels his hand pushed aside, followed closely by Misha’s body pressed up against his and Misha’s surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a bear hug.  ”Missed you, Jen,” Misha whispers.  Jensen’s belly feels tight and sort of flip-floppy, but he just hugs Misha back so tight the thought crosses his mind that he might break him and whispers back a gruff, 

“‘Course you did, Mish.”

_This must be what puppies feel like when you come home from work,_ Jensen thinks, trying to push away the eagerness that fills his chest as they get down to the business of making a television show.  He just wants to stand beside Misha, close enough to touch and reassure himself that Misha’s actually here and not going anywhere.  He desperately wants to have a few minutes to talk to Misha, but it’s going to be a long day.  Longer since he’s having so much trouble concentrating.  But, Jensen’s a pro.  He buckles down and delivers his lines as many times and in as many ways as he needs to.

And when they come to filming Dean grabbing Cas and hugging the daylights out of him on this first day, well… Jensen would never admit it, but everyone in the vicinity knows that he’s not acting.  At the end of the day, the two men share a beer, sitting in the middle of the paintball field.  Everyone else has gone home and there’s only the pale moonlight and chirp of crickets to keep them company.  Jensen is feeling shy again and he’s pretty sure Misha notices, but he’s grateful that Misha’s a good enough friend to not say anything about his sudden, awful awkwardness.

“So..”  Jensen starts, then can’t think of where to go with the sentence.  At any rate, he decides the sensible course of action is swallowing hard and taking another gulp of beer. He could kill Misha for sounding so amused half a second later, teasing him with a, “Sooooooo….  what?”  
The moment’s silence while Jensen tries to figure out what he wants to say doesn’t feel uncomfortable.  He can feel Misha watching him, though, and  _that_  makes him nervous.  What if he’s way, way, way out of bounds with this?  What if Misha doesn’t feel the same way he does?  What the hell, has he turned into a thirteen year old girl all the sudden?  Jensen closes his eyes, rubs the rim of his beer bottle against his bottom lip in contemplation.

Moments like this, he really hates how zen and patient Misha can be when he wants to be.  Fucker’ll sit there and wait and wait and wait until Jensen speaks and Jensen knows that.  He decides it’s best just to get it over with.   _Kinda like ripping off a bandage_ , Jensen tells himself,  _the faster you do it, the less it hurts._   When he finally gets his words together, Jensen has finished the first beer and is halfway through his second.

“I missed you, too,” Jensen finally says, like it’s some big revelation that Misha never would’ve seen coming.  He’s torn between rage and elation when Misha laughs.

“That’s it?  It took you  _a beer and a half_  to tell me you missed me?”  Misha still sounds like far more amused than could be considered polite under the circumstances, but Jensen hears such fondness in the his voice that it takes away the sting of being laughed at.

“No, that’s  _not_  ’it’.”  Jensen isn’t drunk by any stretch, but he’s had just enough liquid courage to make what he’s about to do seem like a good idea.  He’s thought about doing this a lot over the past few months, but really never thought he’d work up the nerve. Jensen takes a deep breath and leans over, grabs Misha by the back of the neck and kisses him before he can change his mind.  Misha’s surprised gasp makes any potential fallout completely worth it.

Jensen’s never kissed a dude before.  His lips are already on Misha’s before he realizes he’s not sure how to proceed.  Is it the same as kissing a girl?  Never kissed a girl with a beard.  What if I’m a bad guy kisser?   _Stop thinkin’ so much before you fuck this up, Ackles_ , he tells himself by way of pep talk,  _he’ll let you know if you’re doin’ it wrong_. Jensen’s belly dips, hot and squirmy, when he feels Misha’s hand on his jaw.  It’s tender, and he can feel a fine tremble in Misha’s touch.  Misha lets him lead, lips soft and responsive under Jensen’s, lets Jensen tease at his lips with the tip of his tongue, then opens for him.

Misha tastes like beer and the dirt both he and Jensen are still covered in, but Jensen decides it’s a good taste.  He feels more bold after a moment’s teasing, pushing his tongue into Misha’s mouth, tracing his teeth and tongue, swiping at the inside of his cheek.  When Misha moans into the kiss, Jensen finally decides he must not be doing it wrong at all.  He tosses his bottle away, feeling a sudden need to hold Misha with both hands.  He grabs him by both sides of the neck, thumbing the lines of his jaw, kissing deeper as he feels his cock hardening in his jeans.

Maybe it’s the fact that Jensen’s cock is suddenly aching hard that makes him falter.  He didn’t really think any further ahead than kissing Misha.  This was an unexpected turn of events.  He pulls back reluctantly, breathless and searching Misha’s half-opened eyes for anger or disgust, but there’s nothing there except surprised heat and the a tinge of fond amusement.

“Damn.  Really did miss me, didn’t you?”  Jensen blushes so hot he’s surprised it doesn’t light up the whole field.  He can feel his cheeks and ears and the back of his neck burning and it’s not all embarrassment.  Misha’s voice all low graveled purr and his thumb stroking idly across Jensen’s lips is at least seventy-three percent of the redness.  When Misha smiles an easy-like-a-Sunday-morning smile and licks his lips like he’s savoring, Jensen adjusts that figure to eighty-two percent.  Possibly eighty-seven percent.

Jensen opens his mouth to say something, but can’t think of anything except how Misha’s beard tickled his skin and how distracting it is to have Misha’s too-warm body so close to his and he decides those probably aren’t appropriate things to say under any circumstances when you’re straight as an arrow.  He’s afraid to move, afraid he’s going to break this.   _Whatever ‘this’ is_ , he thinks.  

Before the return of silence has time to get awkward, Misha’s hand is on Jensen’s shoulder, pushing him back more gently than he would’ve expected.  Misha’s other hand is reaching to grab the filthy trench coat from where it was dropped all balled up in a heap when they decided to have a beer and putting it behind Jensen’s head.

“This what you want, Jen?” Misha is asking as Jensen feels the hard ground against his back.  He’s just about to ask for a definition of “this” when he feels the heel of Misha’s hand pressed against his cock. Oh, _this_.  Jensen can’t stop his hips arching up, thinks he probably wouldn’t even if he could.   _Shoulda known I could trust this kinky fucker to make it easy_ , Jensen’s thinking, but all he says is, “Yeah.  Yeah, want this.”

When Misha moves to straddle him, looking so big and lithe, Jensen briefly reconsiders.  But the tenderness in Misha’s sandpaper voice when he leans forward and whispers, “I’ve wanted this for a long time,” makes Jensen reconsider his reconsideration.  He reaches up, fists Misha’s hair with one hand, pulling him down for another kiss.  It makes Jensen feel hot and dirty inside when Misha starts rutting against him as their lips meet.  He can feel Misha’s cock through their clothes, as hard as his, and it drives him crazy to be so close and not skin on skin.

Misha’s hands are on either side of Jensen, closing him in completely as they both thrust, hips bouncing off hips while Misha’s tongue explores Jensen’s mouth.  Jensen is pretty sure he’s never been kissed so thoroughly in his life, Misha’s taking his time to find every little nook of his mouth, tasting him and moaning approval of what he finds.  Jensen whimpers and pulls harder at Misha’s hair, he wants to pull back to breathe, but he’s trapped and he can tell Misha’s having none of that until he’s  _finished_.  

Jensen finally gets a reprieve to breathe when Misha pulls away and he lets his hand fall away from Misha’s hair.  When Misha licks his lips, he gets Jensen’s, too, and it’s such a tiny sensation, but it sends a spark all the way through Jensen to his toes.  He doesn’t mean to make the choked off little groaning sound that comes out, but sometimes that’s just the way it goes.  When Misha stops moving his hips, Jensen wants to holler at him.  Wants to ask what he’s doing.  Misha must see the look on his face because he tells Jensen between ragged breaths, “Shh..  hang on.  Gonna..  gotta..”  and Jensen feels Misha’s clever, clever fingers unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his cock out.

Good God in heaven, he nearly comes like a kid at the first touch of Misha’s hot skin on his dick, smearing pre-come around.  It sets him quivering inside like jelly and he moans, “ _Fuck_ , Misha.”  Misha chuckles low and soft and rumbly,  pulls his hand away for a torturous moment.  Jensen is on the verge of protesting when something slick and hard touches his dick.  It’s definitely not Misha’s hand.  The realization that it’s the head of Misha’s cock rubbing against the head of his takes away any thought of breathing he may ever have again.

Jensen’s body arches up tight and needy and he can feel that Misha’s hand is around both of their cocks, holding them together while he goes back to thrusting.  It’s like nothing Jensen’s ever felt before and he can’t even think straight as an arrow when Misha whispers, “So hot, your dick all slick and hard against mine.  God, Jen.  So fucking hot.”  Jensen has the fleeting feeling that those words should make him feel ashamed, but instead they just send pre-come leaking faster from his cock into Misha’s fist.

Misha’s squeezing their cocks together so hard Jensen is pretty sure he’s going to die from how good it feels all slick and slidey and uncoordinated.  The sounds coming out of Misha’s mouth are incredible, too, making the hair stand up on the back of Jensen’s neck.  Misha moans, breathy and sliding into a growl at the tail end and Jensen absolutely  _has_  to kiss him again. 

His hands are frantic on Misha’s skull, pulling him down until their lips crash together, teeth colliding and it’s too wet and too messy and not really a kiss at all, mostly just panting and licking and occasional biting of lips and Misha’s fucking faster into his hand, cock rubbing Jensen’s in all the right ways and his body is hot and pressed close and trapping Jensen against the ground and…

“Shitshit _shit_  gonna come, gonna come, oh, my God,” Jensen moans, heated and wanting and Misha just fucks harder against him, hips thrusting erratically and he’s grunting and Jensen finally can’t hold back anymore.  His body seizes up violently, bowed and almost knocking Misha over and he feels his cock trying to jerk in Misha’s hand as spurt after spurt of thick come coats his belly, soaks into his shirt, makes Misha’s cock and hand slicker and it burns like a fire all through Jensen’s body.

With just a couple more thrusts, Misha’s cock starts to twitch and Jensen has to jerk away from the teeth closing too hard over his lip, head full of Misha hissing “yessssssssss, fuck  _yes_ ,” and there’s more heat and wet and slick and sticky all over Jensen’s body and he can feel Misha struggling to breathe as hard as he is and who knew it could get this hot in Canada, anyway?  As soon as Misha rolls off Jensen, panting and groaning and releasing his grip on their cocks as he falls onto his back, Jensen wants his weight back.

Jensen can’t hear anything but their panting and crickets in the distance and he smells come and hints of the dew that will be forming on the grass.  The ground doesn’t seem as hard under his back, but he’s getting cold where the mixed come is drying on his body.  Jensen closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and tries to control the wobbly feeling in his chest.  He looks over and Misha’s just sprawled in his dirty loony bin scrubs, looking completely at peace with the world and smiling.  That eases the tension that’s starting to build in Jensen’s stomach as coherence comes drifting back in around the edges.

_Good thing you trusted your instincts, Ackles_ , Jensen congratulates himself mentally,  _great job with the dude kissing, too_.  That makes Jensen laugh and he reaches up to scratch his chin where Misha’s beard was rubbing.  He has just about convinced himself to sleep here in the field because it feels too good to get up when he hears Misha’s voice, soft and wicked and on the edge of laughter.

“Think the costume department can keep a secret, Jen?”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an S.E. Hinton tweet that Jensen "visibly brightened" when Misha returned to set. All lies.


End file.
